


The Witch's Dance

by brimstonegold, virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Halloween, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Plot What Plot, Sexy Times, Wincest - Freeform, maybe a slight plot, short and light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brimstonegold/pseuds/brimstonegold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's either coincidence, or irony, but Sam and Dean find themselves hunting for a witch at The Witch's Dance, a party being given at the local haunted mansion on Halloween. What they find is not the kind of dance they expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=xqchmt)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Co-written with Brimstonegold

Sam did not want to be here. He so did not want to be here. He hated Halloween and Halloween parties and stupid costumes of things that were real that people made jokes out of. The last Halloween party he had gone to was with Jessica, years ago. Now, there was a witch in the area and he found that just too ironic. Hunting a witch on Halloween.

Dean had wrangled tickets to "The Witch's Dance," a 'by invitation only' party at the 'haunted' mansion. There was no way to know if the witch was going to be there, but at a party, especially a Halloween party, the liquor and the season would let them ask questions of the locals they couldn't otherwise. It was still unclear whether the witch was a black magic, give-her-soul-to-a-demon type, or simply someone with a grudge who was in the know about spells. There had been a couple murders and some hex bags had been found at the scene, so odds were good it was the give-her-soul-to-a-demon sort of witch.

They arrived at the party wearing suits with obviously fake badges sticking out of their pockets and labels that declaring them to be female costume quality inspectors. Dean's idea of course. The walkway to the large door was lined with exquisitely carved pumpkins of ghost ships and headless horsemen, black cats and witches, and so many other Halloween icons. Fake spider webs were draped over every bush, exposed walls and window. Flickering fake black candles or animated glowing sheet covered ghosts illuminated many of the windows along with skulls, rats and bats. Inside, the decorations were just as elaborate. There were herb clusters and pumpkins and gourds, fake spiders and bloody body parts nailed to the walls. There was even a live black cat with amber eyes sitting on the table watching the door. The brothers were greeted at the door by an Elvira look-a-like and Dean handed over their invites to her. The woman pointed to the large heavy iron cauldron with symbols drawn on it.

"Pick out a magic pouch. Everyone has to wear one," 'Elvira' said. "These are spell bags for health, or love, wealth, magic wishes, luck, fame, all sorts of things. No opening the bags until after midnight or you'll be asked to leave," she added with a final warning. "But opening the bag at all will break the spell."

The brothers passed looks between them. The pouches were all made of suede and of bright colors, there wasn't a typical black or brown hex bag in the bunch. Dean finally reached in and pulled out a red pouch. Its cord was entangled with another which he handed to Sam. Sam gave 'Elvira' a tight smile and put on the blue pouch. The cat yawned and watched as they passed from the decorated hall into one of the rooms filled with party attendees and more elaborate decorations.

Sam fingered the pouch and looked at Dean. "So now what?" 

"First? You stop looking like you've got a stick up your ass and don't want to be here. Seriously, didn't they have any parties in Stanford?" Dean rolled his eyes. "And look a little enthusiastic about your costume. I mean Elvira there, you could'a offered to examine her costume."

"You know how much I hate Halloween," Sam muttered. "Yeah there were parties and I tried to avoid them. I'm going to hunt up a beer," Sam said, trying to get a smile to come to his face and pretend like he was enjoying himself. 

"Don't you mean _scare_ up a beer," Dean shot back. "Just pretend it's not Halloween, how hard is that?" He followed his brother to the bar and had to admit the decorations were really something. Cauldrons were set up along the length of the bar and dry ice was used to produce a swirling fog that rose from them. There were some neon lights made to look more eerie by the fact that only parts of the signage were visible due to all the fog. 

The bartender was dressed like a bartender from the old west, blood on his white shirt in three places as if he had been shot. He looked at the two young men then grabbed some bottles and poured different liquors and set the concoctions in front of the two. The glasses were layered in green, black and red, a couple round _somethings_ in them, and the glasses were iced so the ice evaporated into steamy curls while the drinks bubbled and fizzed a bit.

"G'on, try 'em," the bartender drawled.

Sam looked at the drink with distaste. "I just want a beer."

"Not until you try it," the bartender said firmly.

With a long suffering sigh, Sam took a sip and his eyes widened. "Holy shit." He took another sip and grinned at the bartender. "What the hell?"

"Transylvanian Bloodslide," the bartender said with a wink. "No relation to a mudslide," he added. "When you come back, ask for my Hungarian Ghoulish or my Spider web Flyer."

"I think I'm going to want another of these," Sam said.

"Nope, not until you try my other specialties. The hellhound howlers are good and the demonic drools, but after three or four drools, you will be drooling, so you gotta hand over your keys if you want the demon drinks. We don't want any real ghosts coming out of this party. Miranda, Lady of Night, would not approve." 

"Miranda, Lady of the Night, huh?" Dean said. While the bartender was distracted forcing drinks on Sam, Dean had grabbed a beer from over the edge of the bar and was happily sipping on it as he looked around. "She the one who's giving this party?" He didn't say anything to Sam but pushed the second 'bloodslide' toward his brother.

The bartender gave Dean a glare. "Try the drink and I'll answer your questions," the man said, crossing his arms across his chest, clearly annoyed that Dean had reached across his bar for a beer.

Sam looked at Dean, still grinning. "Dude, seriously. Try it." 

"A bloodslide? Really?" His gaze went from his brother's, to the idiot bartender's, and back. He pulled the drink closer, if only to avoid Sam accusing him of being the wet blanket, 'cause he just had a feeling that's where his bro was about to go with it. Making a face, he knocked the drink back, and then gave a surprised, "Whoa..." Not only did it pack a punch, but it tasted damned good. "I think my tongue is tingling. I'll have another."  
The bartender's stance never changed. 

"Dude... I just found someone with a bigger stick..." Dean said, slapping Sam hard on the back. "So, who's giving the party?"

The bartender laughed. "You're not supposed to slam a bloodslide. Did you swallow the cherries whole?" He mixed up a different drink. This was red and brown and frothy on top and in a beer mug. "The Ghoulish. Better than that beer you're drinking," the man promised. "Yeah, Miranda's your hostess. He pointed up and across the room to a loft where a lady sitting in what looked like a throne, fog machines keeping mist at her feet. Her hair was long, wavy and black and she was in a very elaborate black and dark red dress. Purple light behind her added to the eeriness. 

"Miranda... okay," Dean said evaluating her. She looked good in a completely movie make up from like the 30's kind of way. "Older woman, Sammy, that's your forte," he said, elbowing his brother. "Go talk to her."

Sam gave Dean a glare then returned his gaze to the bartender. "Is it okay if _we_ thank her for the party?"

"Yeah, sure. Oh, wait." He quickly poured a glass of red wine. "Here, I think she's out of wine."

"You coming?" Sam said, his tone clearly telling Dean the answer better be 'yes.'

Dean gave a resigned look and walked with him. "I thought it would be smarter if I stayed behind, just in case she is the witch and decides to turn whoever is questioning her inside out." As they headed toward her, the lights flickered. That wasn't usually indicative of witchcraft type activities but it instantly put Dean on alert.

A soft throaty voice came over speakers. "The _games_ begin in five minutes. Every room has a different game, but before we get to those games, we're all playing 'musical chairs'. There are four rooms and there will be only ten players to a room. Since there are more than forty people, it means if you don't get a place in a game, you'll just have to go trick or treating with the rest of the world."

"You think that's for real? People will be thrown out?" Dean asked, watching as people scurried to various rooms and shouted "Safe!"

"You wanna risk it?" Sam said. He and Dean quickly headed to the closest room, but the door was already shutting. "Crap!" They raced to the room across the way and both made it in. One more person made it in before the door was shut. They heard the disappointed cries of the rest of the party goers who were shut out of the room.

"Definitely a different kind of party," Dean said, looking around. He frowned at the closed door, sure it should be making him nervous and not sure why it wasn't. "Sam, don't drink anymore," he said, taking the two drinks out of Sam's hands and setting them down on a table. He didn't feel drunk, but it was as if something had really taken the edge off, like he couldn't make himself worry. Even knowing this, he couldn't get himself worked up over it.

"I haven't played this since high school," a girl giggled as she sat down on a cushion. Pushing her long blond hair out of her face, she tilted her head back. "It would have been awkward if you two hadn't made it in and the girls outnumbered the guys."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" Dean asked, seeing her pat the spot next to her on the floor where big velvety cushions had been placed for the players' comfort. Nodding at Sam to take the place across from him so they'd have the room covered, he sat down next to her. "So what Halloween game we playing? Bobbing for apples? Or passing apples with our mouths, even better," he laughed, giving her a look.

A beautiful young woman stepped out from the shadows. "Welcome everyone. I see we have a few new attendees. First we need to ensure compatibility or you'll be traded to a different game." She handed out differently shaped crystals of different colors. "Look at your crystal, remember its color." Then she gathered them all in a bowl and mixed them with her fingers. "Amethyst. Whose is this?"

A girl raised her hand. "I'm sorry, you're not compatible with the group. Please step out and you'll be placed in a different room. Give your crystal to the gentleman outside the door."

The girl sighed and got to her feet, taking her crystal with her. She hadn't much more than stepped out when a different girl stepped in. She was waved to the empty seat and handed over the amethyst crystal the first girl had left with. The woman mixed it with the others then smiled. "Yes. All compatible."

"What do you mean, compatible?" Sam asked.

"That there will be no mismatches. She was not a good match with any of you, that's all. Now let the game begin." The woman set a glass bottle down in the center and extracted a crystal from the bowl. "Quartz, clear?" she asked. 

The young man next to Dean spoke up. "That's mine."

"Then you get to start the game. Spin the bottle."

"Spin the..." Dean's gaze flew to Sam first, then to every player. At least he didn't find any of the women objectionable and a couple were pretty damned hot. He could play this game but questions brewed in his mind. It was almost like everyone at the party was being compelled to play, and that wasn't cool. Then again, no one seemed to be here against their will. And she'd said there were new faces, which meant maybe the others had known what they were in for. What he really would like is to see someone say they didn't want to play, see what would happen. But if he did that himself and there was no coercion, he was afraid he'd just be escorted off premises. Looking at Sam, he gave a shrug.

Sam watched the bottle spin and land on the girl next to him. The young man leaned out, as did the woman, and they kissed almost chastely. The spin went to the girl and the bottle landed on Dean. The woman who was overseeing the game cautioned Dean. "First kiss is lips only."

"Wasn't planning on missing," Dean answered, zeroing in on the girl's mouth as he crawled forward toward her and she did the same.   
"I mean _no tongue_ ," the woman added, without the least bit of amusement.

As Dean moved his mouth over the brunette's, he slid his fingers through her hair and tested the seam of her mouth. Guess she wasn't a rebel. Slowly, he backed away and gave her a wink. "This isn't like high school spin the bottle at all, not that you would know, having had your nose in a book the entire three years," Dean told Sam, looking across at him.

"I know that, Dean. How do you think I met Jessica?" Sam answered. "Now spin the bottle."

"I dunno, I thought maybe she kidnapped you and forced you into having fun." Grinning, he spun the bottle, though his eyes were on the blonde next to him. Here was hoping.

When he looked down, he saw the bottle was pointing toward Sam and made a face even as he stretched his arm to spin again.

"A spin is a spin," the woman said. "Gender is irrelevant."

"He's my brother!" Dean and Sam said in unison.

The woman seemed a little taken aback. "Wait a moment, please," she said, then murmured something softly. She paused, her hand at the earpiece she had in, then murmured again, paused, and then whispered a final time. She finally spoke. "The bottle has chosen. A kiss is required."

"Chosen, my ass. I wouldn't kiss him if he were the last man on earth. Come on, this isn't how the game is played."

"Are you refusing?" the woman asked.

"Hell yeah."

"And you?" the woman asked Sam. At his nod, she shrugged. "Well, you each have a right to three 'passes' but have to drink a shot in lieu of the kiss." Immediately, a cocktail waitress in a Playboy bunny outfit was let into the room and gave each of them a shot glass with a blue drink. 

"This will definitely go down better than you," Dean said, pointing at his brother. He sniffed, then took a small sip, then downed the shot. "Ahh... not as good as the bloodslide, but damned good." Man, they didn't water down the drinks around here, he thought as he spun again, with much better results and got to kiss the same brunette sitting next to Sam. 

"The second kiss with the same player is expected to be a thorough kiss," the woman said.

When Dean crawled up to the brunette, his hand accidentally went over Sam's. An odd sensation ran up his arm, stealing his concentration so he almost forgot this could be a real kiss. Pushing forward a little more, he kissed her right, his tongue delving between her lips before he started to withdraw.

Only he didn't withdraw. Her hand moved to his cheek, encouraging him and who was he to resist? Sliding his tongue back into her mouth, he cupped the back of her head and held her in place as he explored every inch of the inside of her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers and answering her soft moan with his own. It was like the world faded away, like the only thing that mattered was the kiss and how it made him feel, like he wanted more, like he would do anything to make it last. A tap on his shoulder brought him back to himself and had him ending the kiss. "I'll see you after the game," he promised her before moving back to his place and waving the cocktail waitress over to get a beer. 

The brunette smiled at Dean and spun the bottle, her eyes going to Dean's. The bottle landed on a mousy brown haired girl with big doe eyes and a petite frame. The brunette leaned forward and the doe eyed girl did too and they kissed lightly, the petite girl's face flushing a little. She spun the bottle and got Sam. Sam smiled at her and they kissed. He licked his lips after the kiss. The girl tasted of cinnamon and smelled of honeysuckle and for the briefest of moments he wanted to kiss her much longer and more deeply. Sam spun the bottle and once again it came to rest on Dean.

Eyeing Dean, a flash of curiosity crossed him mind, wondering if Dean's lips were as soft as the girl's he just kissed. He licked his lips again, meeting Dean's eyes. They were brothers! ...in lots of cultures men kissed who were merely friends, nothing sexual at all in it. "Can I kiss him on the cheek?" Sam asked.

The woman shook her head. "Lip to lip."

Sighing he shook his head. "Refuse," he said and accepted the blue drink. Shit. They were both down two strikes because of course Dean refused as well. He spun the bottle and it ended up on a blond guy. Hesitating, he decided he better not burn his last refusal. He leaned forward and so did the other guy. They pressed lips and Sam was surprised that it didn't bother him as much as he expected it to. It was actually kind of...nice.

Dean had expected Sam to refuse but watching his brother's mouth move over another man's, he was surprised to find it didn't bother him. It was a game, right? His eyes sought out Sam's, and he saw no disgust in them as his brother went back to sit in his place and just gave him a shrug. 

A few spins later, it was Dean's turn again and the damned bottle stopped on Sam. By now, they'd both caught on to the fact that the first time meant a chaste kiss, the second tongue, the third involved groping and then the 'couple' got to leave the room. Maybe that should be the plan, get Sam three times and they'd both get the freedom to go do some snooping. They'd pretended to be a lot of things, it shouldn't be hard to act as if they were 'in lust'. All he had to do was pretend Sam wasn't his brother. And that he was a girl. Easy.

Just to get on Sam's nerves, he crooked his finger at him, then moved toward him. When they were so close he could feel Sam's warmth breath on his face, he stopped. Yeah, he really was gonna do this. Once he made up his mind, he went for it, slanting his mouth over his brother's and moving it back and forth in a slow kiss. Sam's lips felt firm and soft and warm. Forgetting himself, he crushed their mouths together just a little harder and drew away at the sound of coughing. He was a little troubled by not being grossed out and even more so by the fact that he could have gotten lose in that kiss.

Sam couldn't believe Dean said yes this time. Well, better to refuse next time, right? He gave Dean something of an annoyed look when Dean had given him that come-hither crap, but yet...well, he had been wondering what Dean's lips would feel like...and hoped Dean had a plan. Then leaned forward and suddenly he was kissing Dean...and liking it. When Dean intensified the kiss it was like he couldn't stop himself and started to open his mouth for his brother's tongue when the cough broke the spell. 

Sitting back a little wide-eyed, Sam spun the bottle. A girl he hadn't kissed yet. Okay. Good. He kissed her but all he could still taste and recall was Dean and the way Dean's lips felt.

More spins passed and both Dean and Sam had to kiss the other guys at least once it seemed. It was as if the bottle was making sure everyone got to sample everyone else's lips. One couple had already left, and with the next spin, two girls ended up leaving together. Sam looked at Dean. Two girls and four guys left. Those were not good odds. One of the girls had spun the bottle before they left and it landed on the blond guy who spun and got Sam. Real kiss. Well, better to save the refusal just in case they ended up on a third spin, right? But the guy refused and Sam didn't. So the guy got the blue drink and spun again. 

Sonova... It landed on Dean. Like his brother, Dean refused to pass. The blond had used up all of his passes and looked undecided. "There's no shame in quitting," Dean tossed out.

'Course his words had the opposite effect and he found himself kissing the guy. When he pulled back and spun, he hoped against hope for one of the girls, or for Sam. Then, when the bottle actually landed on Sam, he had a complete change of mind, or maybe a heart attack. "Ninety percent girl," he muttered under his breath a few times as he inched across the floor, crawling toward his brother.

"I heard that," Sam said as he leaned forward too. He was going to prove to his brother he was not ninety percent girl, dammit. As soon as they started to kiss, Sam pushed his tongue into his brother's mouth and began a very determined war with Dean's tongue. His hand went to the back of Dean's head and his fingers wrapped in Dean's hair. When was the last time he had touched his brother's hair? It was softer and silkier than he expected and that only seemed to inflame him.

The hell? Tongue in, tongue out, that was the plan. Instead, Dean suddenly found himself in the middle of a wet, hot, mind numbing kiss. Needing, wanting more, he put his own hand behind Sam's head and welded their mouths together, giving as good as he got. Thoughts of pushing Sam down, of moving on top of him, and of ripping his shirt off encroached on his other insane thoughts, such as how good Sam tasted, how stubborn he was even in this, and how much he needed another 'big brothers always win' lesson. A needy moan broke from him just as a sharp voice called out 'enough.' As he sat back dazed, Dean could swear he still felt the imprint of Sam's lips against his own.

Sam was reluctant to let Dean go and that was just all sorts of messed up...right? Then how come he wanted to lean across and grab Dean by the shirt and pull him back into a kiss? His eyes locked with Dean's as he spun the bottle again. The blonde woman beside Dean. He should be relieved, but instead he bit back a sound of annoyance. The intense kiss he shared with the woman brought him back a little to his senses. If he got Dean again that would mean they were a 'couple' and, hell no, he wasn't going to have _sex_ with his brother. But damn, he did want another kiss...

Dean stared at the bottle, refusing to watch Sam kiss the girl and refusing to look into his eyes after. He was too busy trying to work out his own feelings. The drinks were strong, there was that, but what the hell? How could he have enjoyed that kiss so much? How could he be wishing for a third kiss to see if kiss number two... if what he'd felt would be repeated? That was just fucking nuts. He should want that to happen only so he could get the kiss over with quickly and he and Sam could walk out and search the place.  
Brooding, he barely realized that it had been Sam's turn again, and that the bottle was pointing at himself. His heart leapt to his throat and his mind got a little fuzzy. His eyes met Sam's and saw a fire there that... holy fuck.... He licked his lips.

Sam watched Dean's tongue slip out of his mouth caressing his lips and he groaned softly. He wanted that kiss, that tongue in his mouth one more time. Then they could leave, get out of here, before something happened that shouldn't happen between brothers. He looked at Dean. Two girls. Four guys. Two guys were going to end up leaving at some point and the thought of Dean with any guy.... He leaned forward, his gaze locked with Dean's. 

"Kiss me, Dean," he said simply, but the need in his voice was velvet fire.

 _Movie kiss._ Like hell it was... From the moment Dean's fingers carded through Sam's hair and he drew Sam toward him, all thoughts of pretense was incinerated from his mind. His tongue eagerly penetrated Sam's mouth, a soft murmur of approval leaving him as his brother sucked on it. A flare of heat shot through Dean and just, like that, he took control of the kiss, giving his brother what he wanted. His tongue mapped the contours of Sam's mouth with deliberate, efficient strokes, demanding his brother's response. It was no different than when they were in the field, Sam knew exactly what he wanted, and he knew exactly where Sam's mouth and tongue would move to. There was no awkwardness, no pauses, no breaks except to gasp in some air.   
Dean moved suddenly, closing his other arm around Sam and drawing him close as he lifted up onto his knees and brought his hand down to Sam's ass, molding Sam against him. Holy fuck... his brother felt smoking hot, made him burn up like he was in fever. Shoving one thigh between Sam's, he ground his hips closer, getting some pressure on his now aching cock. It wasn't enough, not by a longshot. He wanted, needed more. Needed it now.

"Come, you will be taken to somewhere you can have privacy," the woman said and guided the two men to their feet with more strength that either of the brothers expected. She forced them to stop kissing, with a hand on either chest, pushing them apart. She braved their fury nonchalantly, giving each a challenging glare that suggested it would be wise for them to listen to her. "You will be taken to a room. You will not be interrupted until midnight. At that point you may stay the night if you wish, or leave." Guiding them to the door, she opened it and a man met them, the black cat sitting beside him. He took them down a hall to a flight of stairs which he began to climb. The cat raced up ahead of them and sat on the landing, flicking its tail then took the lead until the man stopped after passing a handful of doors. The cat meowed and wound itself in between his legs. The man unlocked the door and handed Dean the key. 

"There is a red velvet rope. Pull it if you have need of anything. Food, Drink, _anything,_ and it will be brought to you."

Irritated by the interruption and needing only one thing, Dean grabbed the key, then his brother's jacket, and tugged him into the room, shoving him back not very gently to close the door. He stared up into Sam's eyes which were still dark with desire, then his lips... swollen and tempting. "You ah... you gonna be able to handle this tomorrow?" he forced himself to ask, just barely preventing himself from mauling Sam again.

The whole time they were walking, being led to the room, Dean had held Sam around the waist possessively. Sam's own arm was over Dean's shoulder and it was all Sam could do not to say fuck it and start kissing Dean again, privacy be damned. But now, now they were in a room. The fact that Dean even had enough blood going to his brain to think about tomorrow surprised Sam, but it shouldn't. Sam's welfare always came first, no matter what. Well, tonight it was gonna be _Dean's._ Anything Dean wanted, Sam was going to give him.

Instead of answering, he pushed off from the door and wrapped his arms around Dean, all but welding their lips together and opening his mouth in invitation. He had always loved Dean more than anyone, he just never expected it to manifest itself...physically...like this. He had never had any desire to kiss Dean or to touch him in any fashion remotely intimate except maybe when they gave each other massages from sore and knotted muscles after a hunt. Even that had been almost clinical. This...this was a whole new level of brotherly love and come tomorrow...he had no idea how he'd feel.

For once, Sam didn't seem to want to talk about it and Dean was damned grateful. Wrapping his arms tightly around his brother, he claimed Sam as surely as Sam claimed Dean's kiss. His mouth moved over Sam's in a rough, desperate kiss, his tongue plundering Sam's mouth like he owned it, owned Sam. A tidal wave of emotions and needs crashed into him. It was too much, too sudden and he wasn't sure what to do with it when it came to his brother.

That didn't stop Dean from shoving his hands under Sam's shirt, from exploring his back and sides, from groaning with need and stumbling half blindly as he pushed Sam toward the bed but somehow ended up wheeling him around and slamming his back up against a wardrobe. 

"Fuck..." he gave a pained groan and splayed his hands wide across Sam's stomach and abs, moving them slowly up until Sam's shirt bunched up under his arms. Never, he'd never done this before, but he wanted, needed to taste Sam, needed to hear his reaction. Kissing him one last time, he moved his mouth down along Sam's throat, then lower, kissing his flat male nipple while playing with the other. He tongued Sam, again and again before he leaned in and sucked hard on his nipple, now firm under his mouth and tongue.

Dean played him, touched him, in ways no one else ever had. Dean knew all the right places to touch, as if all those times they'd given each other massages was in preparation for this. His brother's touch had him moaning. The firm thud against the wardrobe knocked the air out of him a little but that was nothing compared to the way Dean stole his breath as his lips kissed their way down Sam's body.

Sam was not, abso-fucking-lutely _not_ ready for the firestorm that erupted in him when Dean sucked hard on his nipple. He cried out, felt the cum dribbling from his suddenly very stiff cock, and his knees almost caved on him. His hands went to Dean's head, running his fingers through those short locks, holding him gently against his nipple, more moans spilling from him.

"Oh, God, Dean, never thought, oh, fuck..." Sam gasped.

Sounds that were _all wrong_ coming from a brother sounded oh so fucking right to Dean, so fucking right he wanted to hear them again. "You and me both, bro," he managed, raking his teeth across Sam's chest then concentrating on his other nipple. His hand moved down Sam's abs and brushed down over his cock, to his thigh and back, in a couple practice runs. Each time, his palm moved over Sam's hard shaft, a bolt of heat traveled up Dean's hand and arm and had him moaning.

Sam hissed when Dean's hand brushed his cock teasingly again and again, the feeling rampaging through him only heightened by Dean's moans. "Yes," he whispered encouragingly.

The next time his hand moved down, Dean stopped right over Sam's groin and cupped it against Sam's thigh, squeezing as he lifted his face up. "So fucking hot, Sammy. I..." he surged forward and took Sam's mouth again, tongue fucking him as he squeezed his brother's cock and frantically rubbed his own arousal against the hard column of Sam's thigh. 

Sam thrust against the pressure of Dean's hand and when Dean's tongue slid in and out of his mouth, his hips thrust in time and speed to match. His arms closed around Dean, holding him close as they fucked against one another. "More," Sam begged. "Want more."

Pushing Dean back violently, Sam ripped off his own shirt. He couldn't stand it and crossed over to Dean, sliding down to his knees, his hands undoing Dean's belt and opening his jeans. Never would he have figured he would give a blow job, and definitely not to his brother, but he just couldn't help himself. He pulled out Dean's cock and immediately began sucking on it, moaning at the pleasurable taste he didn't quite expect. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sam!" Dean gripped Sam's shoulder with one hand to regain his balance and then lowering his head to watch his brother's mouth work his cock. As his dick moved in and out of the hot wet depths of Sam's mouth, he gave a deep groan, his other hand grabbing Sam's hair, sometimes to stroke, sometimes to tug him closer when he got frustrated and had to chase his brother's mouth. With each thrust of his hips, each view of Sam's lips wrapped tightly around his cock, and each of Sam's groans vibrating around his hard length, a firestorm of heat gathered low in Dean's belly. Leaning slightly back, he started to fuck Sam's mouth, harder, faster, a sheen of sweat building over his forehead as he concentrated on being more careful, trying not to choke Sam as his need spiked and kept spiking. 

Sam took every thrust, sucking harder, remembering all the blowjobs he'd gotten and what always felt the best to him and what he'd most liked watching. No doubt he was inexperienced, sometimes finding it hard to keep the right rhythm, sometimes having to pull off a moment to catch his breath and stretch his jaw, but he tried hard not to leave Dean in need. stroking him vigorously when he had to pull off for those brief seconds. Dean was pumping harder and harder and it suddenly occurred to him that Dean was quite probably going to end up coming in his mouth. He was torn between wanting it and being completely turned off by the idea of taking and swallowing down his brother's seed. Then he remembered how much better it was when he got to come in a girl's mouth, to watch her take it all in. 

He'd do it. For Dean, he'd do it. He began to work Dean even harder, and began to hum along his shaft.

Dean was pushed to the edge... pushed past the edge by his brother. He didn't know whether he was coming or going as he fucked Sam's mouth, groaning as his skin stretched taut over his balls. He should warn Sam, should knock him away, but it wasn't happening. He grabbed Sam by the hair and tilted his head back so he had more leverage as he fucked harder, vaguely aware this couldn't be comfortable for Sam, but his desperate need trumped everything else. 

"Sammy!" he suddenly shouted as white hot heat raced through him, sending hot come shooting into the back of Sam's throat. Dean kept bucking as another rope of come left him, some of it spilling from Sam's mouth. "Oh fuck... oh God, Sam, oh God..." he whispered, slowly regaining control over his body.

He dropped down to his knees in front of his brother, his eyes warming at the sight of the sticky mess covering Sam's mouth. "Hot damn... I look good on you," he whispered, closing his arms around Sam and kissing him, licking him clean, and kissing him again. He held him for a while like that, then whispered in his ear. "Your turn. Gonna make you blow you wad so fucking hard, Sam. You want that?" he asked, his hands roaming over Sam, then moving to his belt buckle.

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes at Dean's comment. It hadn't been bad, though when Dean's second shot hit him, he wasn't able to swallow quite fast enough. Fuck, how did girls do it? He couldn't deny he loved being in Dean's arms, being close to him like he hadn't been in so very long. Being able to touch him without his brother brushing him off with the 'no chick-flick' armor he wore. Dean's arms had always been strong, always comforted him whether it was a skinned knee or a broken heart, at least when they were younger. When Dean asked him if he wanted a blow job Sam grinned.

"I want to give you whatever you want. This is your night. You get to be selfish. I want you to take what you want, anything you want, from me. Just so long as you're touching me or kissing me, and just making me crazy." He kissed Dean intensely. "So what do you want to do to me?"

"After what you did to me... Oh I'll be touching you alright," Dean answered, undoing Sam's belt and unzipping his pants with his mouth locked with Sam's. He did want to touch and kiss, he wanted to drive Sam nuts, wanted to know so many things about him, things that might have made him cringe to ask before. "I wanna find out of Sam Winchester really cries through sex," he whispered, making it sound rough and dirty.  
Pulling away, he peeled off his own tee shirt, tugging it over his head, then got rid of his jeans and shorts. "Don't move," he said when Sam prepared to pull his own pants down. Moving closer, still kneeling in front of Sam, Dean gripped his brother's jaw and dropped his gaze to his scarlet lips. "Who knew... who knew you tasted so good?" he asked, slowly pulling him close just by his jaw and brushing his lips over Sam's. He could tease now, he wanted to. That's how he liked his brother, mad and bitchy until he got what he needed.

The thought flashed through his mind as he escaped Sam's tongue, then tangled his own with Sam's before moving to his ear and licking around the shell. His other hand lightly moved over Sam's groin, sliding over jeans, his flesh at the gaping opening, and then over the material of the jeans again. He could tell from the way Sam bucked his hips, he wanted to be freed from the jeans, but he kept playing with him. "Touching you," he noted, sensing a complaint coming on, and chuckling softly.

"Barely," Sam growled. "I didn't say you could tease me to death, jerk," he said, but sort of enjoyed the tease. He had always wondered how Dean made love that had the girls all starry eyed over him. It was not something he had ever planned on asking or experiencing. He ran his fingers over Dean's nipple and circled it then pinched it before rubbing it again. "I never thought, fuck, I never thought touching a guy would be such a turn on. Or maybe...maybe it's just because it's you, because you know me. Because I know you. But this is a whole new level of knowing. Learning things we never could otherwise." He took hold of Dean's jaw and brought their lips together for a kiss. "You taste pretty damned hot too." 

"Maybe we shouldn't explore the _psychology_ of this _right now_ ," Dean answered, letting Sam draw him into the kiss this time, but breaking it only a moment later. "You think so, huh? Good to know," he said, sliding his hands down Sam's sides to the waist band of his jeans and tugging them down slowly as he looked down. "Hello." Knowing he was annoying Sam, Dean pulled him into his arms and gave him a proper kiss, grinding his mouth against Sam's and tangling their tongues together in a heated battle.


	2. Chapter 2

Sliding both hands onto his brother's now bare ass, Dean tugged him close, gasping as Sam's cock rubbed against his belly, hot and hard, like a firebrand. He kept him close like that, loving how he felt in his arms, loving the tension he felt in Sam's body, and the knowledge that his brother was holding still just for him. He started to kiss Sam's throat and chest, touching him all over like Sam belonged to him, and for this moment in time, he did. _Fuck..._ his brother was built. No wonder the ladies always came back for second helpings.

He helped Sam to sit on the thick carpet his knees up and feet flat, his legs trapped by the jeans now pushed down past his thighs. His cock jutted up and Dean couldn't help the audible gasp that left him. He ran his hand down Sam's chest, to his cock and started to stroke him, locking with Sam as he watched the subtle changes in Sam's eyes. The hunger, the need, the lust burning in his brother's normally calm eyes.

Sam would have fallen on his ass without Dean's help getting him onto the floor. The raw hunger in his brother's eyes made him that much needier and when Dean gasped, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what it was that made Dean make that sound. When Dean finally began to stroke him he groaned loudly. "Yes, oh, God, fuck yeah," Sam said, trying hard not to buck up into the warm calloused hand he had only ever felt on his back and sore muscles before. 

Jacking Sam's swollen cock in slow sure strokes, Dean watched his brother closely. The way Sam's nostrils flared when breathing became more difficult. The way his straight white teeth bit down on his soft lower lip as an anguished moan slipped out of him. The way his stomach muscles tightened, his hips rising in an effort to get more friction or to build up a faster rhythm than Dean was willing to allow at the moment. "No rush Sammy," he whispered, loving the way his brother was slowly spinning out of control, and yet trusting him.   
His own knees and bridging over Sam's tangled jeans and thighs, Dean dropped down, bracing his weight on his forearm parallel to Sam's body. Now he was over Sam with lots of space between them and still stroking his cock, but moving in a way which gave the illusion he was fucking against Sam. That thought sped up the hardening of his own cock, drawing a curse from him. "Don't even know how I want you, just want you," he whispered, brushing his mouth over Sam's and kissing him lightly.

"No rush, he says," Sam moaned giving a little harder thrust. When Dean's lips touched his own, he lifted his head to meet his brother's kiss, opening his mouth, the tip of his tongue just flicking into his brother's mouth. "Have you ever...unh, Jesus...done it with a guy?" 

Chasing Sam's tongue, Dean returned the favor, sweeping his own in and out of Sam's mouth, just barely resisting the urge to give him a proper kissing. "No. Never done anything like this. With a guy," he admitted. "Never wanted ... it... with a guy." He moved his hand a little faster, squeezing Sam a little harder, instinctively moving his own hips though his body wasn't touching Sam's. "Never figured it could be this good, not... not that I'm gonna try it with any other guy," he clarified. 

"Same..." Sam managed to say. Dean was finally giving him the pressure he needed and he began to thrust, moaning, his head falling back to the carpet, his fingers digging into its deep nap. "More," Sam gasped. He was so hard, leaking cum, and he could feel his balls tightening. He wasn't far from coming. "Faster," he begged his hips moving with every stroke his brother gave him.

Watching as if fascinated for a moment, Dean eventually nodded. "Legs flat," he said and lowered his own body still straddling Sam's thighs once Sam's knees went down. Leaning forward, he gripped his own cock, holding it with Sam's and started to jack both of them off. The press of Sam's hard flesh against his had Dean wanting to buck against Sam, to just fuck against him, but he controlled himself. A broken groan left him as he started to feel Sam stiffen. "That's it... that's it," he whispered, landing a messy kiss over Sam's mouth

Sam had never felt anything quite like getting jacked off against another guy's cock. It was a strange sensation but he was too far gone to analyze it much beyond that. His brother's encouraging words was all it took and thrusting up, his brother's name was on his lips as he came just as hard as Dean had promised he would.

"Nghugh..." Dean came with Sam, their cum coating his hand and a little splashing across his belly. He didn't stop stroking, not until he felt Sam relax. Then he dipped his head down and experimentally licked across the sticky fluid twice. "Hmm.... just like I thought." Lifting his head, he grinned. "I taste a lot sweeter than you."   
"Guess that makes _you_ the girl. Sugar and spice and all that," Sam said, pulling Dean down on top of him and kissing him slowly, exploring his mouth in ways he never imagined he would. 

Dean enjoyed every second of the slow sensuous kiss, curling his tongue around his brother's and following Sam's lead. When their mouths parted, he smiled. "Boy, am I glad I won _you_. That other guy... not so good at the kissing." He pushed Sam's hair off his forehead, then rolled off him, onto the floor. "But for a college boy... you really could have used your head and, you know, mentioned us getting to the bed." Turning his head to look at Sam, he added. "You know... all this aside, we still have ourselves a witch to catch. I mean maybe this didn't turn out so bad but...." 

"It was my spin. I won _you_. And my head was focused on your head," Sam said with a smirk that rivaled Dean's as he looked down at Dean's cock. "You could have backed up to the bed. Or pushed me onto the bed instead of about knocking me on my ass on the floor." Sam stared up at the ceiling. "Witch. Right." He frowned a little at that. This was surely a spell. He had no desire to make love to his brother. Okay, he hadn't before tonight. He looked over at Dean, staring at his handsome profile. If they got the witch, the spell would be over and that would be a good thing, right? A part of his heart protested that. He didn't want it to be over. " _Maybe_ this didn't turn out too bad? Dude, I gave you one fuck of a blow job and don't say I didn't."

Sam blinked. Did he really just say that? "Shit," he said, blowing out a breath. "Yeah, let's, uh, let's get the witch and get out of here where-where we can get our heads on straight." When Dean started to turn to him to say something, he couldn't seem to stop himself though and he kissed his brother again, pulling him into a tight embrace. That was when he heard the loud chiming of the clock announcing midnight had come.  
Retracting his tongue from Sam's mouth, Dean let out a sigh. "That can't be good."

A moment later, a soft voice spoke over some speakers. Dean looked around and saw a vent like place in the wall for surround sound. "Oh man, they'd fucking better not have been taping--"

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is the _witching hour._ Thank you for playing, but the game is now over. The spell is broken. It is now up to you to decide whether the crystals have chosen wisely. Stay in your rooms and enjoy the night if you wish, or leave. It's up to you. If either of you wants to forget everything... open your pouch and it will be as if none of it happened... for both partners. You have until tomorrow morning to decide. If the pouch is not opened by then, the memories will be with you for your lifetime. Happy Halloween." The women ended her announcement with a classic witchy laugh.

Dean made a face. "That laugh at the end there, kind of cheesy." He sat up and looked down at Sam, searching his face and then inspecting the hard lines of his body, his chiseled abs, his dick. "Spell's broken. It doesn't feel like it's broken." Locking gazes with Sam, he added, "And if you make fun of that I _will_ kick your ass."

"Not saying anything," Sam said, fingering the pouch around his neck and dropping his gaze from his brother's. "If we open the pouches...we might forget the witch we're hunting. We should, you know, wait until after we're done, don't you think? Just in case?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah." He waited a moment, but the silence told him what he wanted to know, or maybe didn't want to know. He wasn't sure. "You wanna... you want to get dressed?" He wished to hell he sounded less reluctant. "I mean, of course you do," he added, clearing his throat as he started to get up. Knowing it may be his last chance, he copped one last look of his naked brother and bit his lip. Man... he better get his clothes on before he started to beg.

"Kinda messy here," Sam said. Looking around he spotted an old fashion wash basin and some wash clothes and towels. He finished stripping off his shoes and pants and walked over to it. Pouring the water from the pitcher into the basin he was surprised to find the water was warm. He dropped two rags in, squeezed the water from one and tossed it to his brother. Plucking the other one out, he wiped himself down, cleaning away the cum, then patted himself dry.

"Towel?" he asked Dean, twisting his head back to look at his brother's naked form standing there. He turned back around quickly when Dean started to look up. He was not oogling his brother dammit. He wasn't.

"Where you looking at my ass?" Dean demanded, staring openly at Sam's.

"No," Sam said honestly. _I was eyeing your cock..._ "You looking at mine?" he asked then turned around to face Dean as he finished drying his stomach off. "God you made a mess." 

"Yeah, I was... and I did, and so did you." He finished wiping himself clean. "Guess all good things come to an end." 

Sam's eyebrows lifted in surprise and didn't really know what to say. So he got re-dressed. Once Dean was redressed they looked at each other. "I'll take upstairs?" Sam asked. "And what are we going to do about the witch?"

Dean sighed. "I dunno... come back for her tomorrow? I mean this place is crawling with people, how many doors we gonna open before we find her? It's not like anything bad is happening, I mean too bad," he quickly corrected. "Unless... you don't think this is part of some ritual or.... We could look around, make sure nothing does happen."

"No, I don't think it's part of any ritual," Sam said. "She wouldn't let people leave. And if the ritual were going to happen it would have probably have been something while we were still...pre-occupied. Yeah, I guess we could come back tomorrow. Or we could stay here and wait for others to leave tomorrow. We'd know when the house was empty of guests then." 

"True." Dean backed up to the bed and dropped down on it. "But what are we gonna do till then. No TV. No radio. No nuthing..."  
The sounds of someone moaning with pleasure had him making a face. "Well _that's_ not nothing, I mean it's really _something._ "

"Uhm, well, I guess we could try to sleep," Sam suggested then looked at the queen sized bed. There was room enough for both of them. It wasn't like they hadn't shared a bed before after all. Just not in a long time.

"Sleep sleep? Okay." Getting up again, Dean started to strip. Slowly. He watched Sam the entire time. He'd meant what he said earlier, the spell might be broken, but he sure as hell was still interested in Sam. Course he got that the reverse wasn't true and he'd just deal with it. Tomorrow, the memories would be gone and he'd just move on. One night of wishful thinking wouldn't be so hard on him.

The way Dean was taking his clothes off, he could see the desire in his brother's eyes, desire he was feeling too. Sam felt like his brother was undressing him with his eyes and he just stood there dumbly, watching as Dean's muscles rippled as he moved, the way the shadows played across that muscular body, the curves of Dean's chest, his hips, the strong muscles of his thighs, watching those hands that had touched him and set him on fire.... Sam turned away, putting his back to Dean as he felt a blush redden his cheeks. Yeah the spell did not feel like it was broken for him either. He slowly undressed, still feeling his brother's eyes on him. He hesitated when he reached his underwear. Usually they both slept in their underwear if it was hot, if it was cooler, sweats or shorts and t-shirts were left on. On, he finally decided. Without looking at Dean he crawled under the covers, flipping back the other side of the covers so Dean knew he was cool with them both being in the same bed. Probably dangerous with the way his heart still pounded.

It took Sam a moment to find his voice. "Wanna get the lights?" He asked Dean hoarsely. His cock was half hard and he couldn't stop thinking about Dean's hands on him or the way Dean tasted when they kissed or when he had swallowed down Dean's cum. The heat continued to pool in his loins and he buried his head in his pillow letting out a soft groan he hoped was muffled. He should not, _not_ , being having these thoughts of his own brother. It would be better in the morning, he told himself.

_Yeah, right._

The heat was still there between them. Dean was no dummy, he could read it in the way Sam was looking back and in the silence that stretched between them as they undressed and Sam's rush to get into bed and to hide was equally telling. "Alright," he answered, flipping the covers and getting in. "I'll get them." 

Rolling over until he was pressed up against his Sam's back, Dean stretched over him to reach the switch which was on his brother's side of the bed. He was in Sam's space and all up in his business, his hardening cock pressing into Sam's ass. He moved his leg over Sam's side to be able to stretch a little further, allowing his fingers to slip off the switch twice before he got it. He lingered there for a moment, drinking in Sam's scent, a scent he knew so well but which had never affected him like this before. God... it might be fucked up and wrong, but he wanted Sam's arms around him again, wanted to hear his mid-sex gasps and complaints, his demands made in a way that was distinctly Sam. Fuck... he wanted to be skin to skin with his brother.

Fire raced through his veins. He didn't want to give this up, not yet, but Sam.... Squeezing his eyes shut, he cupped the side of Sam's face and brushed the pad of his thumb across Sam's mouth, just barely biting back a moan at the memory of what those lips could do to him. "Good night Sammy," he whispered, then slowly rolled off and onto his back, staring at the ceiling in the dark.   
He could barely believe the shit Dean was pulling. He didn't realize the switch was on his side of the bed and he did not expect Dean to practically sprawl on top of him to reach it. He felt Dean's need against him and wondered what it would be like to feel more than just having it pressed against him. They had surely both butt-fucked a girl. He had. He couldn't imagine Dean hadn't. When Dean shut off the lights, Sam wasn't sure Dean was going to roll back off of him. The gentle brush across his lips, the slight hitch he heard in Dean's breathing told him Dean didn't want to, that he wanted to stay right there against him.

He started to speak but had no voice when Dean told him good night. Clearing his throat he tried again. "We've got," he began hesitantly, then his voice became stronger as he rolled onto his back, "we've got until morning. Before this all goes away. We don't have to sleep if you'd rather...we do something else." Sam reached out and found Dean's hands under the covers. Biting his lower lip, he hesitated then pulled Dean's hand down to his groin where his stiff cock tented his undershorts. "I, uh, seem to be ready to go another round. If you want."

"Fuck... you're hard," Dean croaked, closing his hand around Sam's cock over the thin material and squeezing him lightly. He'd been afraid Sam wouldn't come around, that he'd waste the rest of the night wishing for something he shouldn't even be thinking of. "Yeah... I want. I want it bad," he admitted.  
Sliding his hand up to Sam's hip, he pulled Sam over, rolling toward him at the same time so they faced each other. "How do I want your scarlet lips? Let me count the ways..." He felt Sam tensing and bit back a laugh. "More than the desert wants water, more than an engine needs oil..."

"I never figured you for a romantic poet," Sam said then stopped. "An engine needs oil? Dude tell me that doesn't work on women."

"You're only part girl, so I threw the lips part in. Where was I, oh yeah, I want your scarlet lips wrapped around my dick, nice and tight, your face bathed by the moonlight..." his shoulders started shaking. "Help me out here, dude..."

"I'm not a girl, _Deanna_ and you're doing just fine digging a nice big hole for yourself. You should write for a greeting card company. Tasteless sex cards by Deanna Winchester," Sam teased. He reached down and stroked Dean's cock lightly. "Do you think...do you think we're still under a spell or whatever? I've never wanted you like this before," he said and added softly, "though you, uh, give good massages." He was glad it was fairly dark because he knew he'd be blushing. He had gotten off on Dean's massages before, but not because it was Dean, just because...well, just because.

The unexpected touch had Dean raising his hips slightly and chasing Sam's palm. Releasing his lower lip which he'd caught between his teeth, he sucked in some air. "Not really," he answered. His entire body was tense with anticipation, hoping that Sam would touch him again. "I... I don't know. One time, I saw you jacking off to porn. At least I hope it was porn and not to Wikipedia... you had your nose in the lap top. It made me.. I dunno, I might have jacked off to that. Can we... can we not talk about this, it's making me uncomfortable." 

Sam stroked him a little harder but still keeping it a caress, just a tease, because he liked the way he felt Dean seeking more. "Oh, no, now you have me curious," Sam said flashing a grin. "So have you wanted to kiss me before?" He brushed his lips over Dean's. "Hmm?"

"No! No man..." He leaned in, chasing Sam's mouth and catching his lower lip between his own and sucking on it as he pulled back. "Never, not till that first kiss earlier." His mouth was burning now, he wanted some of that kissing action. Moving his hand up Sam's back, he cupped his head and brought him closer, so close their mouths practically touched. "You? Those times I gave you _good massages?_ " he asked, his heart kicking up a notch when Sam's hand didn't stop stroking. He tried to thrust against his palm, his knees knocking into Sam's at his overenthusiastic effort.

"Don't flatter yourself. It was the massage, not you," Sam said, brushing his lips lightly over Dean's again. "I never wanted to kiss a guy before, though I always wondered how you kissed that got the girls so head over heels for you. I kissed a girl once that you'd kissed, hoping I'd maybe, I dunno, get some clue. She told me I was the better kisser. Better built too," Sam added, giving Dean's cock a sharp squeeze then sliding his hand underneath Dean's undershorts. "You seem to be leaking oil," Sam whispered against his lips then slanted his mouth over his brother's and gave him the kiss he could tell Dean wanted.

"The hell she did. Who-" Dean's demand stuck in his throat the instant he thought Sam was done teasing him. Fucking into his hand, he almost complained when Sam released his cock, but then he was sliding his warm calloused palm down his abs and under his shorts and Dean was in fucking heaven. Parting his lips for Sam, he moaned softly, enjoying the kiss and the long, easy strokes of Sam's hand along his shaft.

"I need a mechanic to fix that leak... you up to the job, college boy?" As the pressure started to build low in his belly, Dean started to touch Sam all over. His hand roamed up and down Sam's back, then he shoved it into his shorts, squeezing Sam's firm ass cheek. His fingers sank into the cleft of his brother's ass and unbidden, he was bombarded by thoughts of fucking him for real. Groaning with need, he rolled Sam onto his back and topped him. 

Hands on either side of Sam's body, Dean raised up and braced himself as he ground his hips down over Sam's and moved up and down, his cock hardening even more and leaking steadily, wetting his shorts and Sam's. As he fucked against his brother, he kept trying to banish the obscene desires that only sharpened each time his brother pushed back against him. "Sammy I...want..." He licked his lips and didn't know how to tell him. 

The way his brother touched him had him moaning and when he felt Dean's finger slide toward his hole, he knew what was going on in his brother's mind. He let Dean roll him over and fucked back against his brother with as much enthusiasm as Dean. Sure, he hadn't gotten laid in awhile, but he was sure he hadn't ever felt such need as he felt now with his brother leaning over him. As soon as the words left Dean's mouth he knew what his brother wanted even though Dean couldn't quite say it. He had been tongue fucked and finger fucked by partners before and he had liked it. Having a cock, especially one the size of Dean's, that sort of made him wonder if he could even take it.

"Take a breath, slow down," Sam told him, forcing himself to do the same. "Trust me," he told Dean as he gave him a light kiss. "Off me, just, just hang on, okay?" Sam said. Dean's pain filled groaned was echoed by his own at losing the pressure that felt so good on his cock . He reached up and turned the light on. He had never seen his brother look so...delicious. He looked thoroughly kissed and his hair was spiking up in all different directions, but it turned Sam on in ways he couldn't begin to define. Sam reached out and grabbed the velvet rope and tugged. He was a little startled when a voice came over the speaker-vent.

"What do you require?" a silken female's voice asked.

"Lube," Sam said.

"In the drawer, beneath the wash basin. On the other side of the bed, in those drawers are bindings if you have such an interest. May we provide you with anything else?"

"No, thanks," Sam said and quickly opened the drawer and grabbed the tube, tossing it to his brother. "Okay. We're good to go."

Dean caught the tube and wasn't sure how his mind was still working. When Sam didn't shut off the lights, he didn't mention it. This would be the first and last time they did this, and he wanted to see Sam, to catch his every expression and reaction. "Okay," he echoed, his voice a little shaky as he tugged Sam's shorts down and off.

Crawling over Sam, Dean searched his face and didn't see even a hint of fear or hesitation. Nodding, he lowered his head and kissed him across the mouth, nibbling lightly on his lips. Then he moved down, kissing and nuzzling Sam's throat, sucking on his sensitive flesh now and again. He painted every inch of his brother's chest with long sweeps of his mouth across his taut skin, his hands sometimes following and sometimes moving ahead, exploring, learning Sam's body, surprising himself by how arousing he found this, how damned tight his own skin was feeling.

The way Dean made love to his body, kissing and licking and sucking had Sam arching and moaning. He loved feeling Dean's hot breath wash over his wet skin and feeling those hands so long familiar to him touch him in ways he had never imagined. He ran his own hands over Dean's back, mapping it out as readily as Dean was his chest.

Reaching Sam's tight abs, he licked up and down in an outline around Sam's erect leaking cock, then gave him a sharp nip on the abs, right next to his cock. His soothing kisses and licks spilled over to Sam's cock and he slowly and more deliberately moved his mouth up and down his shaft. Feeling Sam's cock firm up under his mouth did things to Dean's insides and had him groaning with need. Knowing he'd need to prepare Sam, he'd made sure the lower part of his own body did not come in contact with Sam because he seemed to get carried away too fast when it came to his brother, but was determined this would be good for both of them. 

The way Dean worked his cock had the heat coiling inside him, wanting Dean to take him in his mouth. He heard Dean open the lube and felt the slide of Dean's coated finger run from his balls down to his hole. 

"Suck me Dean, please," Sam groaned, wanting to be in Dean's mouth when his brother first penetrated him. He wasn't nervous about the fingers that would push inside but the thought of Dean's cock sliding into him, that did make his gut tighten. 

"'Kay," Dean said, blowing a hot breath over Sam's cock as he grasped it. He simultaneously teased Sam with his tongue, running it around Sam's crown and tongue fucking his slit while threatening to take him inside his mouth, and rubbing his fingers over Sam's hole, keeping him guessing. "You want inside, don't you... want it bad, want to be in my mouth, want me to suck you hard while I fuck you. God you're hard... fuck..." he sucked his way along the hard ridge of Sam's dick, pressing his finger a little harder just as he opened his mouth and sucked Sam's cock inside.

"Yes, I want to fuck your mouth," Sam gasped. "God you're a fucking tease." He groaned as Dean teased his cock some more and pressed and toyed with his hole. When Dean finally took him into his hot wet mouth, Sam arched his neck and couldn't help the loud groan that erupted from him.

"Ungh, yes, more," Sam begged, and felt Dean's finger push cold lube inside his hole. Pressing back against that finger then thrusting into Dean's mouth, it was sheer heaven. 

"Fuck!" Every nerve in Sam's body seemed to come alive and he wanted more. "Ngh, deeper," he begged, not caring if Dean thought he meant taking his cock in deeper or for Dean to push his finger in deeper, because either would be good.

The raw need in his brother's demands and frantic movements drove Dean too suddenly to the edge. Mentally cursing as he fought for his control, Dean redoubled his efforts, teasing Sam for another few long moments. When his brother's demands were close to sounding like threats, he relented and took as much of Sam's cock into his mouth as he could. Relaxing his throat, he sucked hard and moved his head up, dragging his lips wrapped tight around Sam's cock up along his shaft. When he went down on his brother again, he pushed two fingers inside him as deep as he could, and pulsed there while he licked and sucked and swallowed him.

Time became irrelevant. All Dean knew, all he concentrated on was the movements and sounds Sam made, the things he demanded. Steadily, relentlessly, he pushed his brother closer and closer to the point of no return, but carefully kept him from going over the edge. When Sam was writhing under him, practically fighting him, Dean pulled his mouth off Sam's cock with a wet pop. Seeing the steady seeping of precome from Sam's tip, he licked it and met Sam's eyes.  
"Know why this is so hot for me?" he asked, slowly inserting a third finger inside him to make sure he'd be ready for him. His brother was so analytical, he knew talking would distract him from the pain. "Hmm?"

"Because...you've...always...loved...to...torment...me," Sam gasped, practically whimpering at the loss of Dean's mouth on his cock. Dean had brought him so close, so many times, but never let him quite make that final leap. He felt the extra finger enter him and pressed back against the invasion. It burned, but burned so damned good.

"There is that," Dean admitted, cupping his hand over Sam's cock and giving him some pressure with the heel of his hand, but nothing more. "But mainly? You're always so... I dunno, together, smart Mr. Know-it-all, stick-up-my-ass Winchester. Have an answer for everything and so damned hard to corrupt. But right now... you're a fucking wreck for it... for me, and it's a beautiful thing, Sammy." He didn't know how to explain it better, all he knew was that seeing Sam out of control made him crazy with lust. To prove his point to himself, he curled his fingers slightly and sought out Sam's gland, brushing it again and again and watching his brother, Dean coming apart slowly with Sam as if Dean was sharing the experience.

Every time Dean touched his prostate the pleasure/pain sensations shot through him. He jerked and writhed under his brother's skillful attention. Who the fuck kept it together when having really really good sex? A stick up his ass. He found that hilarious since it wasn't a stick but Dean's fingers, but he was too far gone to laugh. 

"No stick...but if you don't fuck me soon, I _will_ have to kill you," Sam got out between gasps and hitches of breath as Dean toyed with him. "Please, goddammit!" he begged. He couldn't take much more of this and his brother damned well knew it.

"Okay... fuck..." Dean pulled his fingers out and quickly got rid of his shorts. He was so fucking hard, it hurt. Grabbing a pillow, he pulled Sam's hip up and shoved it under his ass and crawled closer, aligning his cock to Sam's hole. He rubbed his sensitive tip against Sam's hole, groaning as the urge to fuck got stronger. Stroking himself, he made sure lube and precome covered every inch of his cock before he started to work his tip in. "Look at me, Sam," he said, needing to know his brother was okay. 

Sam tried hard to relax his sphincter and reminded himself Dean wanted this and well, he kinda did too. He wanted to try it and besides, come tomorrow this would all be wiped away, assuming it really was a spell and opening the bag really did erase the memories. So screw that it was his brother making him so damned crazy with need. Who else could he trust more to be careful? Even so, as Dean pushed in slowly he winced as he felt his sphincter stretched more and more. 

"Get past it," Sam said, knowing Dean would understand what he meant, for Dean to push in fast to at least get his crown inside past that tight ring of muscle. Then he could work on relaxing and adjusting to the burn and fullness of the invasion.

A little reluctantly, Dean did as Sam asked, thrusting his hips and pushing forward. He bit his lower lip as the pressure around his cock wreaked havoc with the last shreds of his control, making him have to fight the need to bury himself all the way inside Sam, to take his brother right here, right now, his way. A pained groan left him as he eased inside, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving Sam's, his hand clamped on Sam's hip as if to give him some measure of control. 

Sam gasped at the sudden stretching pain but nodded once Dean was in. Better. Much better. Dean was well lubed enough, and so was he for that matter, that Dean slowly pushing inside wasn't painful enough to be noticed over the stretching his asshole was enduring.

"Stop," Sam finally said, needing a moment to adjust to try to relax. He could tell by the look on Dean's face that stopping was the last thing he wanted to do, but he did. Sam shut his eyes, feeling the fullness and slowly relaxing as his body adjusted. "Okay," he said. "I'm good." His brother didn't move though and Sam opened his eyes. "I'm good," he repeated. "Keep going."

"Shut up Sam." It was hard enough to ground himself, to find the will to stop himself from fucking Sam into the mattress without his brother saying things that made him want to take the brakes off. "Sorry," he muttered, running his hand over Sam's stomach and leaning over him again far enough so his mouth hovered over Sam's as he repeated, "Sorry." This time, he was apologizing in advance because as his mouth covered Sam's, he pushed his throbbing cock, every inch of it, inside Sam until his hips were snug against Sam's ass. His mouth muffled his brother's cry. Dean tried to soothe him, stroking his face, running his hand up and down his side, speaking against his lips, promising it would get better, that he'd wait.

 _Fuckkkkk_ was about the only thing that came to Sam's mind as his brother finished entering him in one fell swoop. He clutched at his brother, inadvertently biting Dean's lower lip hard, maybe in a little subconscious retaliation. Sam's breaths were fast and shallow but Dean kept his promise and simply lay on top of Sam, his cock resting inside as he tried to comfort Sam through the initial bout of pain. Sam felt the sweat on his brow and finally began responding to Dean's kisses and soft words. He just needed a bit of time and Dean seemed ready to give him all he needed.

Slowly running his hands over Dean's back, his fingers lingered here and there over various scars. Dean's body had its own sheen of sweat on it. After his breathing slowed down and his body adjusted as much as he figured it was going to, he stopped kissing Dean and looked into his brother's eyes. "You better make this damned good, bro'."

"I got you, Sam," was his only answer as Dean started to slowly rock back and forth, staying deep inside his brother but getting him used to the motion. Even with the small presses of his body against Sam, heat started to pool low in his belly, winding him tighter and tighter. The first time Sam clenched tight around him, Dean gave a strangled cry. He tasted blood and wasn't sure anymore whether it was his own or Sam's. 

Another few moments later, he pulled out a little and pushed back in, groaning with need. "Fuck Sam, you're so damned hot and tight, I... Christ..." He started to fuck a little harder, "Tell me when you want more." It was a plea... maybe a prayer.

Getting the response he did from Dean when he clenched around him was a sweet reward. "I should make you wait," Sam said, pulling Dean down into a kiss and clenched around him again, feeling the shudder go through his brother and loving the reaction. He finally broke off the kiss and whispered in Dean's ear. "Dude, just try to make sure I can actually walk tomorrow as you fuck me within an inch of my life." Nipping Dean's earlobe he added, "I want more. I want it all."

"I'll carry you," Dean answered wincing. "Dude... teeth. Sharp." Dean might have had more to say but the worry that Sam might change his mind and decide to torture him back set him in motion. Pulling almost all the way out, Dean bucked against Sam, his eyes closing against the sudden intense heat lancing through him. "Sam... Sammy... Sam..." he started to whisper his brother's name as he thrust his hips, each time a little harder, a little surer, finding a rhythm, learning how to angle his hip thrusts, and throwing back his head each time he got it just right and had Sam clenching tight around him. 

The first time Dean pulled out and pushed back in it was a little uncomfortable but soon the pleasure outweighed the pain. The first time Dean hit his prostate, Sam bucked up against him and let out a cry as his whole body shook with the pleasure it sent through him. That was all it took for him to start rocking back against Dean, meeting him thrust for thrust, clenching and trying to give his brother the right pressure to make it just as good for him. His own cock was trapped between their bodies and was stroked by Dean's body every time Dean pushed in or pulled out. 

"Oh God. Dean, harder, faster, Dean!" Sam said clutching him and wrapping his legs around Dean to get better leverage and pull his brother's cock in deeper with every stroke.

"Hell yeah," Dean grunted, his brother's muscled legs now gripping him and urging him on, pushing him in the only direction he wanted to go. He slammed his hips into his brother harder, faster, riding him like they'd been doing this a long time, like it wasn't their first. It didn't feel like the first time, and it sure as hell didn't feel like the last. Reality be damned. This... this was heaven. Sam's wet heat surrounding him, Sam whispering his name, moving with him, anticipating his thrusts and giving as good as he got. He'd never felt so close to his brother, as sick as that might be, a part of him recognized that what he'd always wanted was _all of Sam._ Not to share him with strangers who fed him Thanksgiving dinner, or with college friends who knew nothing about their lives, or even with his dad who fought with Sam too often.

He didn't know he was crying, not until he tasted tears on Sam's face as he kissed him and lifted his head to see if he was hurting Sam. When he realized the truth, he welded their mouths together the way their bodies were welded together and pistoned into Sam with everything he had, giving him everything he had, holding him, caressing him, loving him in a way he'd never dreamed, but had always needed.

Sam never could have imagined the pleasure his brother was giving him. With the way Dean was kissing him, giving everything to him, he knew then that it didn't matter they were brothers. Or maybe it did. But this was love in its purest form. Dean's heart and soul was laid out on a silver platter and all Sam had to do was take it. They had drifted apart through the years and as Sam got older, more rebellious, Dean pushed him away from the tactile needs Sam had always craved from his family but had never really gotten except when he was young. Sam took what Dean was offering. If only for tonight, Dean was his. All his. Dean wasn't the 'good son' or the 'good soldier' or the brother to whom hunting seemed to come so naturally and that made Sam always feel like he was lesser and a disappointment to both his brother and his father. Tonight, they were one. Of one mind, of one spirit, of one body, joined in a way they never had been before. He felt the tears that leaked from Dean's eyes, at first mistaking them for sweat, but then seeing that they weren't. He wanted to ask why Dean was crying. He wasn't ashamed of this union was he? No, Sam didn't think that was it but he just wasn't sure what Dean's tears stemmed from. But then Dean was kissing him again and all other thoughts left him.

He rode Dean's cock, giving back as much pleasure as he could, giving himself over to Dean the way Dean was giving himself to Sam. _Love you,_ Sam thought but he and Dean were kissing and loving each other so intensely, that he couldn't say it. He would though, soon enough.

He felt his balls begin to tighten and knew he was close to coming. It would take only a small push from Dean and he would come harder than he probably ever had.

Dean started to chant Sam's name again as they desperately strained together. "Close, so fucking close, Sammy," he panted, thrusting harder, desperately slamming into his brother as the pressure built and intensified. "Now Sam... now!" he demanded, arching and grinding his hips, a strangled shout leaving him when Sam's muscles clenched and spasmed around him. His hand closed around Sam's slippery wet cock, stroking it a few times, then covering its head as hot cum shot into his palm. "That's it, that's it... I gotcha... I gotcha Sammy," he whispered, still fucking his brother, still riding the waves of the most intense orgasm he'd ever had.   
His brother's words and his frantic rhythm sent Sam spiraling out of control. He cried out as he felt Dean's hand on his cock and that was it. He fairly exploded as he came and clenched tightly around Dean's cock, milking it as he felt the wet heat spill inside him and out his hole as Dean continued to fuck him.

"Jesus," Sam finally whispered, sweat rolling off his body. It had been amazing, just fucking amazing. He pulled Dean down into a breathless kiss. "No wonder the girls can't get enough of you," Sam said against his lips before kissing him again.

"Can I have that in writing?" Dean kissed Sam back, loving how he tasted, how he moved under him. He sucked on his lower lip then pulled off. "Don't write this part down." His expression turned serious. "Don't care about the girls. I care about you." It wasn't an invitation to say anything profound, so Dean kissed Sam again, drawing him into another mind numbing battle of lips crushing lips, teeth clashing and tongues delving into each others' mouths. By the time he was done, they were both breathless.

Sam kept his arms wrapped around Dean, not minding the weight on top of him at all. "I'm...glad you dragged me to this stupid Halloween party." He kissed Dean lightly on the lips. "Love you too. Even if you can't say those dangerous words."   
Staring into his brother's green eyes, Sam realized he wasn't ready for this to end. He loved being able to touch Dean without Dean putting up a hand and telling him 'no chick-flick moments.' He loved being able to be close to his brother. And god had the sex been hot as hell. 

"Words are redundant when your brother watches Dr. Phil and can read your cues." Pulling out of Sam slowly, Dean grabbed a handful of the sheets and cleaned them up. "Damn... don't know when I last came this hard. See how wrong you are about Halloween and Halloween parties?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "So be redundant. For once."

Dean blew out an impatient breath, glared at Sam, and then remembered these moments that they had were fleeting. Soon they'd be gone. He licked his lips and leaned over Sam, his fingers tracing invisible circles over his brother's heart. "Sam Winchester, it turns out I love you in a totally inappropriate way, in addition to all the appropriate ones. That goes double since finding out that _you_ do not, in fact, cry through sex. Satisfied?"

Sam broke into a grin at Dean making girlie little circles over his heart. "He _can_ say the word. Hell must have frozen over." He pulled the pillow out from under his head and smacked Dean with it. "Very funny, smartass. And yes, I'm satisfied. Now let's clean up and get a little sleep. We can always wake up each other with a good morning surprise."

Dean merely grunted in response. "Sam, you ah..." his voice went down an octave, "so you want me to shut the light off again?" Without waiting on an answer, he repeated his earlier performance, leaning right over Sam and hoping like hell his brother was game.

* * * 

Dean had been worried it would be all kinds of awkward when morning came. When it wasn't, when without talking about it they took a shower together and kissed like crazy, like it was the last time and they'd both miss it, he really had to wonder whether the spell was still on them.

Later, they'd gone downstairs. By the light of day, the Halloween decorations looked fake and garish. Many of the pumpkins had been taken by guests and there were empty glasses and plates all around. They followed the smell of food and found a breakfast buffet being served to those guests who'd stayed.

They separated to get food, each looking for signs that others were still under a spell, and also looking for the witch. Dean was first to make his way to the long table and to start eating as he watched other paired couples, watched the way they exchanged looks. Most were going to stay together, but some were talking about opening theirs. One couple was kissing with desperation, then parted. He watched her fingering the pouch in her hand as her gaze followed her lover until he walked out of the room. The woman caught Dean looking at her.

"He's... he's my brother in law," she said. "What was meant to be... can't be." With that, she opened her pouch, and smiled. "What a fabulous party, I've never had so much fun. Oh boy, I'd better get going, I can't believe I drank so much..." shaking her head, she walked out, clearly puzzled by the wetness on her cheeks.

A middle-aged woman in a cream colored dress with black lace sat down beside Dean, a plate with a muffin and some fruit on it in her hand. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. She was the same woman who had been on the throne the night before overseeing the guests. Miranda. 

"So you're looking for me, Hunter?" she asked quietly, her voice silken as she buttered the blueberry muffin and glanced at him. "The murders weren't my doing. _That_ one has been taken care of. This is my town and I don't appreciate squatters causing trouble."

Dean's eyes narrowed. He hoped Sam was seeing this and that he'd get his ass over. "I'm supposed to just buy that? You're some good witch?" he raised a brow. "This might be your town, but the people, you know you're using them as your little chess pieces."

The woman laughed softly. "No, I offer them a chance to find their dreams. It's their choice to grab hold of them or not. Everyone here has the option to open their pouch and both partners forget anything ever happened. Marilyn, the young woman you just saw leave, has long been in love with her sister's husband. They had their evening. That ache will be eased in her now, eased in them both, though they won't remember, won't know why, but they will be able to move on."

He stared at her as she continued.

"Am I good witch? Good is relative, Mr. Winchester. What I did to the witch who killed would not particularly fall into the 'good' category, but then you walk the line of shades of grey as well. Are you certain everything you have killed deserved it just because they did not fit into the world view of a hunter? If something not human has caused no harm, why should they pay for what they are? As a hunter you lie, you steal, you scam. Is that good? You take money from hard working men and women when you hustle them. What if that money was needed to pay for something important? Yes, they were foolish to wager it, but you tricked them into thinking they could make more and that it was not a foolish wager." The woman took a bite of her muffin and then ate a few pieces of fruit from her plate as if considering what to say.

"My family has long lived in this town, has long watched over its people. No, we do not always fall on the side of 'good,' but we do what is necessary." She sipped her coffee, her grey eyes studying Dean.

"First off, we're not talking about me, we're talking about you," Dean said, knowing he needed to center the conversation back on her. "I don't force anyone to do anything. I don't use...." he wiggled his fingers, "mumbo jumbo to make them jump through hoops, play fetch, or ... ten to one, you've won the lottery, or have a dead relative who passed you a fortune, or something that you wouldn't have but for your powers. Power, especially witchcraft, corrupts. It's simple like that," he said. He knew Sam wouldn't agree, and he was waiting for her to make a move. If she didn't, then all he needed was the plate which had some fruit she'd bitten into. A little of her DNA, and they could undo every spell she'd woven.

"It only corrupts if you let it control you and consume you and if you seek out your powers from the dark forces. I have simple needs and wants. My powers did not save my husband from the car accident that took him from my daughter and me. Could I have brought him back? Certainly, if I wished to sell my soul to do it. Or collected souls in trade for his. That," she shook her head, "is not something I was willing to do." She rose to her feet, and lightly touched his shoulder as her voice took on a soft but powerful tone. "Now please, enjoy your breakfast and be on your way, Mr. Winchester. There is nothing in this town for you to hunt. You were mistaken."

She saw the younger brother approach but stay out of her reach. "As I told your brother, there is nothing in this town for you to hunt. You were mistaken." 

The now familiar voice they'd heard over the speakers last night announced a reminder that anyone who wanted to forget all that had happened at the mansion had to open their pouch within the next fifteen minutes. Dean's hand went to his pouch as he watched the witch walk away and out the doors. He saw Sam's questioning look and shook his head 'no.' When Sam came up to him, he explained. "We know where she lives and she made it clear she's not leaving this town." He picked up her plate. "Got her DNA, key ingredient to maybe getting rid of her powers or at least her spells." 

It was all grey. Knowingly or not, she'd brought up the way Dean had himself misused power, used demonic power to get Sam back from the dead. The things she claimed not to do, that was worth thinking on. He wasn't sure this... this love fest thing she had going was right either, but he wasn't sure it was all wrong. He needed time to think. "She says the witch responsible for the murders has been taken care of. I think we need to... to check that out, and see what else has been going on here. What other spells she's cast. Dude what happened to your plate? Sit down, I'm getting some more ... I'll get you some rabbit food, just make sure you guard her plate."

Dean's laugh was forced. His hand moved to Sam's shoulder and he gave it a squeeze then walked away. The pouch burned against his chest.

"Bring me a cheese danish and some strawberries," Sam called after his brother. "And fresh coffee!" He watched Dean walk away and couldn't take his eyes off of him. He fingered the pouch around his neck. Did he want...? You shouldn't love your brother like that, he told himself. And what if things went badly between them as lovers? It could ruin their relationship as brothers as well. He chewed on his lower lip indecisively, feeling the soft suede of the pouch. He took it off and set it on the table, finally pulling his eyes away from Dean and staring at the pouch instead.

Did he want to give Dean up? The things he had experienced with Dean went beyond anything he had ever experienced in a relationship. If they loved each other though, how could that sort of love be wrong? It didn't matter he supposed. Both of his parents would have been shocked and disgusted by their sons making love. Dad would have been and Dean always did what Dad would want, even if Dad was long dead. Dean would open the pouch before the time ran out. Sam would steal one final kiss that he would never remember, but maybe some part of his soul would remember and it would make their relationship as brothers that much stronger.

With a sigh, he put the pouch in his jacket pocket. 

As Dean loaded up the two plates, he lost his appetite. There was a reason he'd awakened in a good mood, a reason he'd been in a great mood until now. No, it wasn't that he'd gotten laid. That part should disturb him, and maybe in those moments he thought too deeply about it, it did a little. It was that he felt, hell, he felt just a little less alone in the world. His life, Sam's, his dad's, and the experience of practically every other hunter he knew, had finally beaten into his head the fact that there would be no picket fence for the Winchesters. No one person to come home to, to unwind with. To share with and make love with. Today, today that dream had been possible. Trade the impala for the picket fence, and Sam for the girl... and he had it all. 

Someone bumped him to move on. Pulling his plate along, Dean went all the way to the end of the buffet and loaded the plate with fruit. Then he moved to where the coffee servers were and just stood there, a little out of the way so others could get to it. 

Sam couldn't live with this, what they'd done. Or even if he could live with the memory of one night, he wouldn't ever contemplate ... nah. Same as Dean shouldn't even be thinking that. God, if Dad was alive, if he knew what they'd been up to, Dean knew he'd have a bullet in his head. Wiping his face, he reached for the pouch. If you didn't remember feeling this... happy, this complete, but that feeling and memory was taken away, would you feel like something was missing?

As he walked back to Sam, a lump rose in his throat, the ache sharpening when his brother turned toward him and for the first time in his life, Dean knew what the word _beautiful_ meant. 

The look Dean gave him made his breath catch in his throat. As soon as Dean set the plates and coffee down Sam pulled him into a kiss. If this was going to be their last kiss before they forgot what might have been, then it was damned well going to be the best fucking kiss he ever gave anyone.

Dean wanted to yell at him for making this harder, for ... for taking it ... this away from them. He wanted to plead, to beg Sam to start one of his long talky sessions to discuss whether they really should, could give this up. But he did none of those things. Right was right, and wrong was wrong. And he wasn't gonna lead his own brother down the wrong path, wasn't gonna influence him like that, not on something this important, this unacceptable to most everyone. Instead, he closed his own arms around Sam, sliding one hand up to cup the back of his head, and kissed him back with everything he had. With every stroke of his tongue, every caress, every softly uttered moan, he told Sam, showed him how he felt, how right something this wrong was for him, how anything else in his past, and in his future, would pale in comparison. 

Sam pulled Dean so close to him there was nothing but material between them. He groaned back into his brother's mouth. He didn't want to lose this. He so didn't want to lose this. He blinked back the tears, knowing that the Winchester curse was once again at work. Dangling what they could never have before them, only to rip it away. At least this time, neither of them would remember it. Sam finally broke the kiss and ran his hand down his brother's hair, his eyes filled with sadness. It was how it had to be. They both knew it. Sam drank a little of his coffee and suddenly pushed himself to his feet. He couldn't stand the thought of watching it happen and it was almost time. "I'm going to hit the restroom. Why don't we cover the plates and just take them with us back to the motel? I'll grab mine on the way out and meet you at the car."

He gave Dean a final look, one of longing, but of understanding as well. He knew Dean had to do it. It was the right thing to do. But in that moment, he hated that they always had to do the right thing, no matter what it cost them. He quickly walked out of the room and into the bathroom he had seen the night before.

Watching Sam walk away was the toughest thing Dean had done in a long time. He left his plate, but wrapped the witch's fork in a napkin, and then her plate as well, and left. 

Out in the parking lot, Dean placed the plate and fork on top of the roof of the impala. He had his arm resting on the roof too, his watch right there where he could see the minutes slip by until the moment he'd wonder just what the hell he was doing, waiting out here and watching for his brother like some love sick puppy. Sometimes it was too damned hard to remember how to make lemonade out of the lemons life dealt you.

Sam took care of business and washed his hands, staring at himself in the mirror, waiting for...whatever it was that would happen when Dean opened the bag. He wondered if he'd think it was a great party or think he hated it like all other Halloween parties. 

The voice over the speaker said simply, "This is your last chance to open the pouch. Once the clock has struck its final chime, what is chosen is what will be."

Sam pulled out the pouch and looked at it, listening as the bell started to chime. He stroked it as caressingly as if it were Dean's cheek, feeling the tears drop down his cheeks. And then the clock chimed its final time. He looked at himself in the mirror. Dean hadn't...?

He was out of the bathroom like a shot, his food forgotten on the table as he ran to the large doors and past the Halloween decorations near them. Pushing the doors open he practically leapt from the porch to the ground and ran across the crushed grass to where Dean was at the Impala, watching for him. He swept Dean into his arms. 

"I thought you would...but you didn't. Why didn't you...?" Sam stumbled over his words and before he let Dean answer, pulled him into a possessive kiss as the tears streamed down his face.

"I couldn't... just couldn--" Words were irrelevant. Dean closed his arms around Sam, holding him with an iron grip, like this was exactly where Sam belonged and like he would never let him go, never let him slip out of his fingers. Never repeat the last three minutes of his life. They claimed each other again in the parking lot, kissing like there was no tomorrow, making silent promises and proving they could handle the lines that had been crossed. 

*

The witch looked out the window at the two brothers and smiled. She had been as surprised as the rest of her coven when the runes said the brothers were soul mates. It didn't mean, of course, that they would accept it; they were brothers, after all. Her daughter set the supplies in front of her which she quickly mixed, including a bit of coffee from each of the brother's cups, murmuring a few words as she did, then poured the mixture into the small cauldron filled with hot coals. She nodded to her daughter as the mixture burned to ash. "They'll forget about us, the notes they've made will be tossed aside. All they'll remember is a Halloween party that gave them each other and no sign of any witch."

"The pouches?" the woman asked.

"Party favors filled with harmless herbs dedicated to love and memories. The active ingredients will have evaporated away, leaving only a light sheen of silver dust on the inside of the pouch."

* 

It wasn't until he heard a car pull up behind him that Dean let go of his brother and turned. It was a patrol car with an officer who'd rolled down the window and was giving them a questioning look.

"Morning officer, I was just making an honest man out of my bro... boyfriend." Between Sam's bitch face, and the officer's stony expression as he drove away, Dean couldn't help laughing. "Here, toss this in the trash," he told Sam, wondering why the hell his brother had brought out a plate of half eaten fruit. Like it would last? 

Sam looked back at the mansion, Halloween decoration still in the windows, fake spider webs strung across the bushes amid flashing lights now turned off. He took the plate, surprised Dean had eaten any fruit, and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. "Maybe Halloween parties aren't so bad," he told Dean as he got in the Impala. "Let's go get a real breakfast then go back to the motel for a nice long day in bed." He gave Dean an obvious leer. "Got some things I want to show you."

"Oh, I got an eyeful. Seven inches. Before I touched you," he added, laughing out loud at Sam's expression. "But I'll be glad to take another look, just to be certain," he said double tapping the roof with his palm, as if the matter was decided and pulling the door open. It was gonna be a good day. No, it was gonna be a _great_. 

THE END


End file.
